


Sweet Tooth

by DT Maxwell (Draya)



Series: Whiskey & Arcanima [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: (possibly literally), Carbuncle Shenanigans, F/M, Final Fantasy XIV: Stormblood Spoilers, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-19 23:07:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11908110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draya/pseuds/DT%20Maxwell
Summary: Ser Aymeric, unfortunately, had let his guard down after months without having to drag a certain carbuncle from the syrup bowl. Or the tea tray. Or the dessert table.(Or, Galette Does Not Know the Meaning of the Word "Shame")





	Sweet Tooth

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to my [tumblr](dragons-bones.tumblr.com) July 2, 2017.

 

Synnove stared at Lucia for a long moment longer, then turned to look at Aymeric.

The Lord Commander was gazing out across the Lochs to the rising gates of Ala Mhigo, and the Highlander felt her lips automatically curl in a snarl at the sight of the city of her birth covered in Garlean sigils and flags. The expression on Aymeric's face was one she was familiar with after walking the Ishgard battlements with him many times throughout her involvement in the Dragonsong War: that of a tactician rapidly assessing strengths, weaknesses, and positioning for men and artillery alike. Today, though, he had a sturdy ceramic mug full of tea in hand as he mentally finalized his plans, the steam visibly wafting from the liquid's surface in the cool air of dusk.

Galette had once again claimed her favorite spot draped around Aymeric’s shoulders to lord over all she surveyed. Instead of attempting to solicit chin scritches or ear rubs as was her usual habit, however, she had her gaze firmly fixed on the tea mug in Aymeric’s hand: following its path from when he lifted the mug to his mouth to sip from it to when he lowered it again, arms crossed, the mug directly below her. Every so often the carbuncle flicked an ear, or her nose twitched, or her tails curled, but her eyes never left that mug. Galette: her spoiled, sneaky, sharp-nosed,  _sweets-obsessed_  emerald carbuncle.

Synnove returned her attention to Lucia and said, her voice as dry as the winds of Southern Thanalan, “Tea? Or birch syrup?”

Lucia’s mouth twitched and her eyes crinkled in the way that meant she was surpassing a laugh. “I fear any answer to that would implicate myself in the matter,” the knight said primly. Synnove snorted in amusement; she knew Lucia had been working with Aymeric long enough to develop a sweet tooth of her own, and the First Commander had probably been the one to ensure the birch syrup was included at all with the supplies the Temple Knights took with them to Gyr Abania.

“You are aware that I  _am_  able to hear the two of you.” Aymeric’s voice was drier than Synnove's own had been.

Both Synnove and Lucia turned and saw Aymeric’s flat, unamused faced directed at them, his mug halfway to his mouth. But they  _also_  saw Galette, who had immediately decided now was the time to take advantage of Aymeric’s distraction and hooked his hand with her paw, yanked it towards herself, and stuck her face in his mug, ears rapidly twitching in delight as she settled in to enjoy her spoils.

Aymeric’s expression quickly morphed into exasperated dismay, and Lucia and Synnove shared a look before leaning into each other’s shoulders to keep themselves upright as they burst into laughter.

**Author's Note:**

> I completed the Stormblood storyline towards the end of June, and a few weeks later went through my screenshots folder and came across _this._ A ficlet was thus born!
> 
> Synnove doesn't do much work as an assessor these days, instead focusing on research, but Galette has one of the best noses of all the carbuncles in Mealvaan's Gate when it comes to searching for contraband. Galette of course uses that nose of hers for devious purposes.


End file.
